


When You're Without Love

by AStoneTown



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Truly Madly Deeply (1990)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Romance, if you've seen truly madly deeply, then you'll know what's gonna happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStoneTown/pseuds/AStoneTown
Summary: Sometimes the grief is so much you can still hear their voice and laughter, feel their touch... get annoyed at them for leaving the heating on.“Will it always hurt so much?” Rose asked after a few moments of silence, biting her bottom lip.“I honestly don’t know…”





	1. Lonely Without You

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this - another oldie from my deleted d/r tumblr - but I re-read it and... got me a little emotional (but then, truly madly deeply as a film absolutely slays me so...there are variations to the original plot, of course... hope you enjoy, mistakes are my own.

** When You’re Without Love **

**Chapter One – Lonely Without You**

* * *

 

 _"Sniff, go on, I bet you'll smell it," Rose Tyler was a young blonde heiress, that worked for her father for his healthy drink company Vitex as an interpreter for companies worldwide, as well as being relationship manager. She was beautiful, utterly charming and completely irrevocably in love._  
  
_"I'm not sniffing anything, you're crazy," John Baxter was a not so young musician, well known composer of classical music, he was talented at using most instruments, and the ones he couldn't play he put down to the fact he hadn't tried to. He was tall, with short brown hair, and was described by Rose as being 'very northern, almost criminally northern'._  
  
_"Honestly now, take a big breath in, do it...for me?" She placed the bags of their things on the floor of their new house, it was sparsely decorated, wooden floors throughout but cosy._  
  
_"Fine..." John took a deep breath in before letting it out, a smile on his face, "Smells like Bessie did."_  
  
_"Exactly! Our house smells like your rotten old car did."_  
  
_"Wasn't rotten, or old, and it was a lovely smell, like love...mixed with..."_  
  
_"Damp, darling, the word you're looking for is 'damp'," Rose took the bags he was holding and placed them next to the bags she put down._  
  
_"We should make a move at unpacking the boxes," John told her both standing around and refusing to move, "and anyway, you should speak ill of Bessie, bloody good car that."_  
  
_"You weren't saying that when you broke down in the middle of the motorway when she finally gave up on you," Rose snarked, a teasing grin on her face. She walked over to the fire place, smiling as she lit it. She stared at the flames for a moment, listening to the sound of John putting things on shelves, or just taking them out of the bags._  
  
_Rose got up, and plonked herself down on their new sofa, cuddling one of their sofa cushions hiding a grin as John looked on in shock._  
  
_"No, missy, I'm not putting all this away while you sit down and relax, up up up," he told her walking to where she half lay arms outstretched to pull her up. She moved the cushion out of the place and placed her hands in his, smiling sweetly before pulling him down to her, him landing almost completely on top. There was noises of pain before shifting and giggles as Rose made sly comments about 'old men' and it ended with her on top and him commenting on that being much better._

* * *

  
Rose's footsteps echoed as she walked into her house. The click of the heels on wood was almost a deafening sound and she decided to get a rug. She looked down at her dress, smoothing down the wrinkles. She hated this black dress, hated it from the moment she bought it to the moment she put it on to the moment she came back home.  
  
She took a deep breath as she entered the living room. She could hear the echoes of long finished laughter and felt tears prick her eyes. She ignored the grand piano and didn't turn to look at the sofa or fireplace, just moving to sit by the window at the back of the room, looking out the back.  
  
She knew she should make food. Get drinks ready. Change out of the stupid dress, but she couldn't. She could barely find the energy to not collapse where she sat.

* * *

  
_"I like the white," John commented, sitting next to Rose on the window seat. His arms around her as they looked around the room._  
  
_"Yeah, that's 'cause your colour palette is either non-existent or police box-blue... Mum said she's going to send some decorators over." John let out a dramatic sigh, shifting her against his chest._  
  
_"Why don't you like the white?"_  
  
_"I do, but if doesn't feel ours yet...we've barely changed anything."_  
  
_"Why fix what isn't broken?"_  
  
_"I'll tell that to the hoover," Rose joked back, turning to face him. "We could just repaint it white, use a cheesy colour like Arctic Mist White or something." He smiled at her dropping a kiss to her lips._  
  
_"You're mother's going to love it," he commented sarcastically, "So you made any decisions about the rug idea?"_  
  
_"Yeah, I decided against it, I love the sound of our feet on the wood...even if you stomp around like an elephant."_  
  
_"Gotta let them rats know who's boss."_  
  
_"Aren't they attracted to vibrations or something?"_  
  
_"Thought that was snakes?" He looked thoughtfully._  
  
_"I don't fancy either, thank you very much," she grinned at him._

* * *

  
"Rose, sweetheart, me and your Dad's here, we're about ten minutes before everyone else," Jackie Tyler, Rose's mother, clipped her way into the living room. Rose rubbed at her cheeks, removing - at least she hoped - evidence of her tears. Before moving slowly off her seat, standing dumbly in front of her parents.  
  
"I didn't put any food out."  
  
"Don't be silly, darling, your Dad ordered food to be made and cleaners to come afterwards to sort everything out. You don't have to lift a finger, you shouldn't have to be going through this at all," she shook her head before removing her coat and taking her husband’s coat, placing them on the rack in the hall.  
  
"It was… I mean...The funeral was... People kept saying what a good turnout there was." Rose tried lamely, tears in her eyes, "I drove past this couple and they were laughing and joking and I kept thinking 'How can they do this? Don't they understand what today is?' But they don't...the world keeps moving and I...I can't..." She was heaving dry sobs scratching out of her throat and both her parents came to her, her father getting there first and holding her against his chest, murmuring about the unfairness of the world and how brave she was.  
  
"I can hear cars, sweetheart, I'll keep them out for a moment, you going to be okay to let them in?" Jackie whispered as if it was a secret, Rose nodded against her father’s chest before stepping back, her eyes and nose were red and stood out against her pale face.  
  
"It's going to be a day of people that barely knew him, telling me how sorry they are and getting drunk off free alcohol... I keep thinking how much he would have loved to be here taking the piss out of them..." She smiled bitterly and her mother returned it with a sad one of her own.

* * *

  
_"I loved when we first went out and the press would chase us...now we could walk down the street naked and they wouldn't even bother getting a camera phone picture," Rose noted as she and John sat in a restaurant together._  
  
_"Oh I don't know, I think a few wouldn't mind having a few pictures of naked Rose Tyler on their phone," He grinned slyly, scooping some spaghetti into his mouth._  
  
_"Yes, well, that privilege is saved for a special few people only."_  
  
_"Few people?"_  
  
_"Well...one person...only. Ever. One person ever," she confirmed, nodding and taking a sip from her wine._  
  
_"Good, 'cause I was wondering how you felt about marrying me or something," he spoke dismissively about it all, taking another spoonful of food. Looking up he grinned around his food at Rose's facial expression. Like a deer in headlights._  
  
_"I...uh, you...really?" She whispered, leaning slightly forward, as if she was afraid it was a cruel gag._

_“Mm, really really,” He answered, placing a ring box on the table, scoffing another mouthful of food in his mouth. Rose looked at the box and back up to the face of the man in front of her. Tentatively she reached across, picking up the box before sheepishly looking around the room. Nobody was looking, and Rose smiled to herself, catching John’s eyes and seeing his smile. She opened the box and her mouth dropped open._

_“Bloody hell,” She paused, “Mum’s gonna fight me when she sees the size of this.” She pulled it out and placed it on her finger, it fit perfectly and she hummed happily in response._

_“I don’t mean to sound paranoid, love, but…” He looked expectedly at her, and she realised that until then she hadn’t actually given an answer._

_“Yes, god, yes of course yes…a million times,” She made to get up when she remembered where they were, “I want to jump over this table and ravish you, you realise that don’t you?”_

_“You’ll have to wait until I’m done with this, first, bloody gorgeous.”_

_“Why did you do it here?”_

_“Well it wasn’t my first choice, but…it felt right, was gonna do it tonight, but… I couldn’t wait.” He reached across the table and caught her hand in his, his finger running over the diamond. She laughed as he awkwardly continued to eat as he did so._

* * *

 

“Oh he was a brilliant man, Rose, I didn’t know him very well…but he was charming, and I’m so sorry for your loss,” Rose nodded in reply, a tight smile on her face. She didn’t know the man in front of her…but she expected that.

“Hi babe,” She let out a breath of relief when she heard the voice behind her, turning quickly wrapping her arms instantly around her best friend, Mickey, “didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the service, beautiful though, he’d have hated it.” Rose let out a soft chuckle against his chest, before pulling back, brushing the tears from her eyes.

“I know, I told Mum there were too many flowers, and too many people he didn’t know, but she insisted…It was beautiful though, if I have half that many people at my funeral…it wouldn’t really matter because I’d be dead.”

“I can’t believe it happened...” Mickey looked down for a moment, pulling at his suit jacket, before looking up at Rose, “Nobody to call me Rickey.” Rose laughed again, before looking down again.

“I shouldn’t be laughing,” She paused, “But I’m glad you’re here. I’m fed up of people saying sorry to me… I mean, I know that’s the thing to do, but I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for a few days.”

“Just a few more hours and you can, okay babe?” Rose nodded, looking around her house filled with black suits.

* * *

_“I’ve got a sore throat,” John turned to her, dramatically rubbing at his neck._

_“I’ve got some lemsips in the kitchen somewhere, I’ll make you one when I make a tea now… what you working on?” She asked looking over her laptop as he sat by the piano._

_“Just a little something…for you…” He mumbled distractedly, “Don’t come over here being nosey, it’s almost done so you don’t having to cheat.” He finished, smiling as he heard her sit back down with a huff._

_“Okay, okay,” She paused, “I’m excited now, I’ll go make those drinks, maybe you’ll finish quicker.” She walked over to him, with a promise that she wasn’t peaking and dropped a kiss to the side of his head, “I love you.”_

_“I love you too.”_

* * *

 

“Well, I heard that Jackie told Marge who told Trish who told her mother who told me, that the last thing they said to each other was ‘I love you’.”

“No…”

“Yeah, one minute he had a sore throat, the next minute he was dead…simple as that… heart breaking that. Even though he was older than her, they just seemed to work, can’t imagine what she must be going through.”

Rose stood in her, surprisingly empty, back garden, a frown on her face and a cigarette in her hand. The voices in the house carried terribly, but she couldn’t really blame the people for gossiping, she knew she’d be the same if the situation was reversed. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to be with John, which was a cruel desire if ever she had one.

“You okay, love?” She smiled tightly at hearing her father’s voice.

“Not even slightly, Dad,” She sighed, taking a drag out of her cigarette, letting out the smoke almost instantly.

“That’s no way to smoke a cig,” Her father took the cigarette from her hand taking a long drag before stumping the cigarette against the wall. They stood in silence as the voices from inside the house drifted outdoors, the same women as before gossiping about the suddenness of the death. She felt her father’s arm come around her shoulders, pulling her to him.

“Heard them talking about the fact the last thing we said to each other was that we love each other…I guess we’re lucky for that.”

“Women will gossip, love, it’s just what they do… Men will gossip too, heard the husbands having a chat about it all,” He sighed heavily, “He was a good man, a bit old for you, but a good man…” Her father joked.

“Will it always hurt so much?” Rose asked after a few moments of silence, biting her bottom lip.

“I honestly don’t know…”

* * *

 


	2. Emptiness is the Place You’re In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was cruel; really, that her daydreams would get more lifelike the longer she went without him. She could feel his chest against her back and his breath against her ear. She clenched her eyes tighter, to hold on to the eerily accurate dream she was having. Even as she felt his arms surround her from behind, she refused to open her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

** When You’re Without Love **

**Chapter Two – Emptiness is the Place You’re In**

* * *

 

Sorting through stuff. That’s what her mother said would help her. _Just sort through his things, sweetheart, get comforted by the memories._ It wasn’t a stupid plan, Rose knew that, she also knew it was her mother’s way of going ‘it’s been two months, and you need to start healing’. Rose knew she was right. Of course she did, but Rose was hollow, she couldn’t understand how anyone could heal after situations like this. She stopped doing work, which was really something that she knew John would shake his head at…but she just _couldn’t._

So, instead, she took her father’s extra offer of another month off work, and sat sorting through John’s things, placing his work into boxes, avoiding looking in private letters such as bills and smiling at letters between the two. He was a little old fashioned, loved sending mail when either was away on business, whereas she always preferred e-mail. She moved onto his music sheets, purposely ignoring the one he was last working on. He was amazingly talented, and he knew it, music flowed out of him like he was born playing an instrument, which if she had asked him, he would have said he had been.

Rose finally made her way to the piano; the sheet entitled ‘Rose’s Theme WIP’. She placed it by the piano, looking harshly at the piano seat for a moment, before sitting down, her fingers hovering over the keys. She could play, it was the only instrument she could actually play, yet as she stared at the notes on the sheet of paper in front of her, she couldn’t help but forget everything she ever knew about playing. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she allowed her fingers to tentatively touch the keys, opening her eyes, she allowed herself to slowly play the song in front of her.

It was beautiful, even as she slowly and nervously almost heavily hit the keys. The song ended abruptly and suddenly, and she realised that it was the end that he was having trouble with.

“It’s too beautiful…I didn’t deserve this,” Rose whispered to herself, her eyes drifting shut as she slumped at the piano. It only took a moment before she felt a hand brush away the hair from her face on one side, a painfully familiar hand smoothing at her face.

It was cruel; really, that her daydreams would get more lifelike the longer she went without him. She could feel his chest against her back and his breath against her ear. She clenched her eyes tighter, to hold on to the eerily accurate dream she was having. Even as she felt his arms surround her from behind, she refused to open her eyes.

“You deserve this and so much more.”

Months on, and his voice was just as she remembered it. She let out a shuddering sob. Cruel, cruel, cruel.

“Open your eyes.”

“No,” She refused, slumping forward almost, as the arms tightened around her, holding her to the phantom chest of her lost love.

“Please Rose, for me…why won’t you open your eyes?”  

“Because when I do, you won’t be there…”

“I promise, Rose…I promise, I’ll only leave you when you’re ready,” He kissed under her ear and she turned slightly into his lips. She shook her head and she felt the arms around her slide away, with that she blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t hear any other breathing, and she couldn’t feel any tingling where his lips had pressed against her skin. Shutting her eyes again, she turned on the piano seat so she was facing away from the piano. After a few moments of silence, she covered her eyes, and opened them, her hands acting as a last barrier to the reality that would be there when she opened finally looked.

For the briefest moments, she thought she could hear some rustling, dismissing it to the madness in her mind, knowing she didn’t register the hands on top of hers moving them away, until they slowly parted to show her the face of someone she thought she’d never get to see again.

“Hello,” He whispered gently. It could have gone two ways, really, she could have screamed, or fainted. But, something in Rose just clicked and after a few moment of staring wide-eyed, she launched off her seat wrapping her arms around his neck, repeating words of love to him.

* * *

“We did that…but you’re still dead…” Rose pulled a face. It didn’t take long for things to escalate, even if it were a daydream, the fact that she could touch and feel and taste him…she didn’t pause long enough for sanity to kick in.

“Uh, yes…” John replied slowly. They sat on the window seat at the back of the living; his arms wrapped around her an old throw blanket around them, their clothes hastily, thrown on the floor.

“This is mental, you know? Proper mental… I mean… If this is being mental, I’m okay with it.”

“I know… I never thought I’d see you again,” He nuzzled at her neck, sighing deeply.

“How long was it for you?”

“Years, weeks…a few seconds… I don’t know.”

Rose could sense something in his voice. There was something to the way that he spoke his words, was as though he was hiding something from her, or at least that he was more aware of what was going on than the way he acted. She didn’t care, though, at that moment if she was crazy, or if he was hiding anything, because she was back with him. Back with the man she was going to marry, and she just didn’t care.

“How long can you stay?” She asked smoothing a hand up and down his arm. She moved to his hand, entwining her fingers through his.

“For as long as you need me,” He told her seriously.

“Then, I guess, you’re never leaving,” She replied, just as seriously. Just as she finished talking doorbell rung and she jumped up from the seat, frantically grasping at her clothes on the floor throwing some at him and attempting to put the other pieces on. Her eyes flicking from the front door to the clock on the wall, “You have to get out.”

“You’re sending a few mixed signals there, Rose,” He told her, a smile on his face as he quickly got dressed. Rose would realise later, that all she did was blink and he was clothed.

“Well, you’re still dead, and that’s my parents,” She bit her bottom lip, “Hide or go for a walk or something, I’ll try and get rid of them…I just want to spend time with you…I love you, please come back.” She rushed, giving him a kiss and moving her tousled hair out of her face.

“I have something to work on,” He told her with a small smile, picking up the music sheet that sat at the piano and motioning for her to leave, “I’ll be here as soon as they’re gone. For as long as you want me.”

* * *

“You are looking good, love,” Her mother stood in the kitchen with her as Rose made tea, the days had begun to run into each other for Rose, so she completely forgot that her parents were coming over for a chat. It wasn’t the first time that had happened for Rose, since John died, it was the first time she was basking in a post-coital glow with the ghost of her dead fiancé, though.

“Yeah, I’ve had a second wind…or actually completely lost my mind.”

“Haven’t decided yet?” Her father asked, walking into the kitchen, a smile on his face.

“I’m leaning more towards the crazy side, really,” She smiled, as though it was a joke, and her parents smiled too, not fully aware of how true that might be.

“You’re just healing, sweetheart, a few more weeks of slowly getting back into everything and you’ll be feeling a little better, I promise,” Her father dropped a kiss to the side of her head, “Now, your Mum said you were sorting through some stuff, bet you’ve found some cracking photos of himself, how about we have a look, yeah? Could do with a laugh.” He nudged his daughter, and picked up all three cups taking them to the living room.

“I’ll bring the biscuits, you go in Mum, garibaldi’s or pink panthers?” Rose asked her mother.

“You know me love, both is good,” Her mother smiled before exiting the kitchen. A few seconds passed as she searched in her cupboard’s for the biscuits when she heard her name being called, turning, she saw John standing there, an almost frantic look on his face. He stood behind the door the one wall of the kitchen next to him, and motioned for her to come closer to him, which she did.

“What’s wrong? My parents are in there…”

“I know, but I heard your father say abo-“

“Listening in, were we?” She grinned, and he rolled his eyes.

“Photos Rose…remember, there are…certain ones of me that were…personal.” His blue eyes went wider and there was no trace of humour on his face.

“Oh, right… They’re in the box in the drawer in the bedroom, I wasn’t going to show my father but if you want me to, I will…” She moved to exit the door, as if to go upstairs and get them, when he pulled her back and behind the door, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Am I going crazy?”

“Maybe, probably,” He replied, flicking his eyes over her face, a sad grin on his face, “Go to your parents, I’ll be here.”

“What? Behind the door?” Rose joked as she walked away, a huge smile on her face, one matched by a dopey grin of his own. “I’ve missed that smile.” She told him as she turned to pick up the biscuits. Turning back she jumped at the sight of her mother standing there, and no sign of John.

“What’s taking so long, miss? Been craving pink panthers something crazy,” Her mother looked at pointedly.

“I got some here, Mum… I remember you saying about craving these when you were pregnant with me, you haven’t got something to tell me have you?” Rose joked, picking out a pink wafer and taking a bite. Her mother remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Mum?”

“Rose, love, I’m so sorry, we weren’t going to tell you… it just happened and we definitely didn’t plan this, and-“ Her mother’s words died as Rose practically barrelled into her, squeezing her in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Mum,” Rose mumbled into her mother neck, “You should have told me. How far along are you?”

“Just over four months now, we were going to wait until you were…better,” Her mother told her.

“Four months? Wow, that’s…wow… I’m so happy… Let’s go in to Dad, let him at least have one wafer before you scoff the lot.” Rose grinned, walking out of the kitchen, her mother huffed in reply.

“I’m eating for two now, you know!”

* * *

“So…do you sleep?” Rose spoke into the somehow-solid chest of the ghost of the man she loved. She could feel him shrug and she looked up as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “You still need glasses, maybe you still need sleep?”

“I don’t feel tired…or hungry, or thirsty…”

“But you ate those chips with me, just now?” Rose sat up next to him, taking one hand in hers, “I don’t really care, the fact that you’re next to me…”

“So, your mum’s pregnant?” He grinned, continuing to look at the music papers in front of him.

“Come on, we talked about this since they left, my mother and father are still disgustingly in love over twenty years on and have an active sex life, ha ha, make Rose cringe, come on…I just want to be with you, I don’t want to sleep…just want to stay here…”

“No thank you, Rose… I’ve seen you when you try to pull and all-nighter and there’s nothing grumpier, sleep, when you wake up… I’ll be here.” He paused, “If you’re worried about me, I’ve still got work on this to do, or I may nap… who knows.”

“Promise you’ll be here?” She mumbled, having already lay down to go to sleep.

“Sleep, Rose.”


	3. Nothing to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay then, Doctor, tell me about yourself, did you always want to be what you are, or did you just settle?” Rose asked gently, walking through the crowd of people talking, their attention firmly on each other.
> 
> “Oh, no, I mean, I could be what Martha calls a ‘real doctor’ if I wanted, honestly Rose, I’m a genius…”
> 
> “And yet so modest about it,” She nudged him, smiling. John Smith smiled back, shrugging slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the ten!John(Smith). Ah. I hope you enjoy!

** When You’re Without Love **

**Chapter Three – Nothing to Lose**

* * *

A month and a half later, Rose was heading back to work for the first time. She was happy, really living in her little bubble with John… but she was also at the end of her tether. She spent the three barely leaving the house. She’d argue that because of that, all those little annoyances she didn’t notice when John was alive, were unavoidable. That is without mentioning some of the newer… habits he picked up post-life.

It turned out he didn’t sleep. Which was fine in that Rose was a heavy sleeper in general. But often he would get bored and turn on all the lights, and watch TV at a level that, funnily enough, was loud enough to wake the dead. There was also the heating; he would raise claims of being freezing, so the moment Rose popped to the shop and came back, she’d often be greeted by sweltering heats. Whilst that was enough to tickle her the wrong way, at times… it wasn’t as though she was rushing to return to work. That revelation came after some bizarre events.

She had gone for a lunch with Mickey. An issue with that was she found herself wanting to tell him about John being in the house. But as she was still not completely sure she wasn’t actually insane, she kept quiet. Her mistakes lay in mentioning things John done recently, or referring to him in present tense which just earned her quiet corrections from Mickey and a small, sad, smile.

It was when she arrived back home, greeted as usually to the blasting heat and froze, ironically, at the door at the sound of voices. She entered her living room to find John there, along with many other random, scruffily dressed, men and women.

“Hello?” Rose asked her eyes wide.

“Rose!” John called, standing up, his wide grin that was so usually disarming, did nothing to her, and she kept her cool stare trained on him.

“What’s going on?” she nervously walked further into the room, aware of footsteps upstairs, and noises out the garden, “Are you having a ghost party?” Her eyes were wide, as the ridiculousness of the whole situation caught up with her at that very moment.

“Well, yeah, sort of… These are some of the homeless ghosts you see about,” he stood and walked towards her, all ware of his lovers’ anger bubbling under polite calmness. Some of the ghosts waved at her, and she waved back. She even allowed them a small smile which John knew to be extremely forced.

“Can we…uh, can we talk where there isn’t a room full of dead strangers please?” She whispered, looking past his shoulders at the unashamedly staring dead people. She walked through her house, uncaring if he was following, and through the kitchen, rolling her eyes at the mess and ghosts milling around. She let out a soft growl before walking to the backdoor, opening it harshly, she pointed back into the house and requested the ghosts go indoors... they complied and once again she was struck by how ridiculous it all was. She shifted her handbag further up her arm, and for all intents and purposes looked like a woman ready to storm out, when ten minutes previously she couldn’t wait to come home. She heard John shutting the backdoor, and she moved to the half opened window to the living room, pushing it shut, purposely giving the residents inside a ‘do not interrupt’ look.

“It’s cold, Rose.” Were the first things out of John’s mouth and Rose sighed heavily, turning and facing him, “They don’t have families, Rose; most of them can’t remember what their unfinished business is…so they can’t move on.”

Rose knew he knew exactly what he was doing, playing on her compassionate side and she bit the inside of her mouth to stop the sadness at what he told her to shine through. She wondered, briefly, how many of them did once have people like Rose, and when they went back to them their Rose couldn’t see them, or worse, saw them and rejected them.

“I know…I’m sorry, you know, this is hard for me, too… Today at lunch I was talking about you as if you were still alive, as if we have all these new memories together, and Mickey just looked at me all sad like… I wanted to tell him, and I can’t… Because you’re not alive…you’re still dead.” Her eyes shut as she finished her sentence and moments later she felt him hug her, automatically she felt herself hug him back. She pulled back a moment later to meet his sad eyes. “Where did you even meet them?”

“You sleep for a really long time,” He gave as his answer. A small smile on his face. Rose made up her mind about a few decisions there. One was that he could have some friends over, when she wasn’t around as long as they didn’t mess up the place. The second was that she was going to go back to work. A little space between them would be good and although at that moment she hadn’t had any pressures from her father to go back – it would be coming, and she’d rather it were her decision.

* * *

Rose’s first day was filled with people that reacted exactly how she thought they would. Either all of them were bending over backwards pretending to be normal, or constantly giving her baby-eyes and sad smiles if she looked their way. It was tolerable, and remembering why she loved her job meant getting up the next morning so much easier than getting up and leaving John that morning had been.

Weeks passed comfortably, her social life had grown from its somewhat recluse state post-John. With lunch with people at work, dinners with her family, she found that she barely saw John. A small part of her didn’t care, knowing he’d always be there when she returned.

Even the nights when he wasn’t there, she’d wake up to him, or a sign that he had been around during the night. She noted, the focus of his afterlife when he first came back, the piece of music he had almost completed writing for her, remained uncompleted different music sheets covering it. He had finished two different scores instead of completing Rose’s Theme, jokingly telling her how she could sell them at auction for way more than they were worth, in his opinion, now that he was dead. She couldn’t help the feeling of unease whenever he casually used that word to describe him.

Rose sat at her office, signing some boring papers on the Thursday after when her mother walked in, without knocking, and already talking.

“I’ve got that dress for the party tomorrow, missy, it’s time for you to show your face back out there for all of society, if only to shut them up for five minutes,” she told her purposely, sitting down heavily in the seat opposite Rose’s desk. Rose’s confused face went unnoticed by her mother, as she nosed at the documents in front of her.

“Mum… I haven’t agreed to a party, and I definitely haven’t been told about one…” she trailed off as her mother’s piercing eyes met hers.

“See, it’s that bloody secretary of your fathers, I tell him I can handle all that stuff but he insists on using her, one time I do, she forgets to do it!” She huffed heavily before plastering a charming smile on her face, “Rose, sweetheart, we’re having a party at that old posh hotel about twenty minutes from your house, you know, the one where that couple on the TV got married at a few months back?” Rose nodded although she had no idea who her mother was referring to, “Please come sweetheart, there’s some brilliant people there you should meet, you’ve been out of the social circles for so long.”

“Okay, okay… Fine…but if I want to leave early, I can, with no arguments?”

“Brilliant, perfect,” She paused, “You’re going to love the dress, it’s this cream lace thing that’s all in… come over… I’m as a big as a whale, so I gotta dress vicariously through you.”

“You look beautiful, Mum, and that’s all I’ve seen in the papers too.” She told her mother pointedly, smiling at the baby bump.

“Yeah, along with sly jabs at my age, don’t think I haven’t noticed, Rose. All about how I’m too old, even though I look good… I don’t care, she’s gonna be loved no matter what.”

“She?” Rose perked up; ignoring the flare inside that she could tell was her selfish eleven year old self.

“Well, I’m hoping, boys are no fun, but your Dad still won’t let us find out – I told this doctor I’d pay him to tell me, and he laughed…saying I’m already paying him enough going private. Cheek of it. Right, I’m going to go, see you tomorrow about four and not any later, love you sweetheart,” Her mother heaved herself out of the chair, making all the noises she could before shuffling over to the door.

“Love you, too, Mum.”

* * *

Rose stood awkwardly on the outskirts of the party, looking on at all the people laughing and joking about. She had arrived with her parents, stopping and smiling for photos. It surprised her that it wasn’t so hard to pretend to be happy, she wasn’t exactly unhappy. Whilst she missed John being there with her, he was all for her going. Telling her he had things to do and people to see, and truthfully, she was happy to be out too. She looked over and caught her mother walking towards her, three people following. One was a short woman, attractive dark-skinned, with a laugh on her lips as she talked to a taller man in a normal plain suit, the other was a man wearing brown pinstripes, causing a small smirk to grace her face.  
  
"Rose, sweetheart, you look lovely. Here… there are some people I want you to meet. This here's Doctor Martha Jones, surgeon in the local; she's the one that fixed your Dad up nice and proper after his fall last month, remember?" Rose stared dumbly, had she even been told that? Her mother continued regardless, "this is Doctor Owen Harper, friend of Martha's here and the one with the grin is Doctor John Smith."  
  
"Wow, don't I feel underqualified?" Rose laughed nervously, putting a name to the faces of everyone she scrutinized on their way over.   
  
"Don't worry about it, Smith there isn't even a real Doctor," Owen pointed at John Smith.  
  
"I am too, don't listen to them Rose, they're just snotty about it like I'm a dentist or something. I have two Ph.D.’s one is astrophysics and the other in just physics. That's one more than both of them." He stood tall and Rose found herself smiling at his protectiveness over his title.  
  
"Think you're impressive, do you, Doctor?" She grinned and his head swerved and he looked at her a grin matching her own.  
  
"I do, indeed."  
  
"Couldn't save my life with a scalpel though could you?"  
  
"I haven't tried, but I probably could, multi-talented me," he answered proudly and she let out a little laugh.  
  
"Rather take my chances with these two, thank you Doctor."  
  
"Well I'll leave you all to mingle and talk, gotta get Lucy to get some more finger foods out, someone's been going through those nibbles like they've never had any before," Jackie informed the group before turning away, missing the sheepish look on John's face.  
  
"So, Rose, we hear you've just come back to work, I was so sorry to hear about your loss, I was a huge fan of your husband actually." Martha told Rose kindly, it didn't sting as she thought it would, but Rose put that down to the fact in a few short hours she'd see him again anyway.  
  
"I think anyone that's heard his music can only be a fan, but I'm bias...also, we weren't married...he had only recently purposed before he..." She trailed off, her eyes flicking from Martha's sympathetic to Owen's awkward face before settling on John Smith's encouraging small smile and kind eyes.  
  
Martha just made a motion to start talking again when her phone started ringing and she excused herself, followed quickly by Owen who, though polite, had the glorious face of someone that just didn't want to be there.  
  
"Did I just kill this whole group conversation then?" Rose asked the last remaining Doctor who smiled a bit wider.  
  
"Absolutely not,” John Smith shuffled awkwardly, “You might have maimed it slightly…but no, not killed.” Rose could tell by his tone, had she not even been looking at him that he was joking, and she let out a laugh.

“Okay then, Doctor, tell me about yourself, did you always want to be what you are, or did you just settle?” Rose asked gently, walking through the crowd of people talking, their attention firmly on each other.

“Oh, no, I mean, I could be what Martha calls a ‘real doctor’ if I wanted, honestly Rose, I’m a genius…”

“And yet so modest about it,” She nudged him, smiling. John Smith smiled back, shrugging slightly.

“Ah, well, when you’re as amazing as me, modesty is boring. I also happen to notice that we’re heading over to the nibbles table.”

“Yeah, well, my Mum might have missed that look on your face, but I didn’t… Stick with me; nobody’ll judge you for eating all those cheesy bites if you’re with the daughter of the people that paid for the party.”

* * *

Rose and ‘the Doctor’ as she introduced him to guests at the party, making a point to emphasis the ‘the’, hadn’t spent more than five minutes apart during that evening. She found out where he went to school, his first love, his latest love, how much of a genius he actually was, and that he usually wears his glasses but that evening he wore contacts. Rose had told him about her life growing up with parents that were in the public eye, her relationship with John, what the last few months were like. She had almost, even, asked him if he believed in ghosts, but resisted the temptation…

“So, Rose Tyler,” He paused, breaking into a wide grin, “Wonderful name that. Rose Tyler, rolls off the tongue. Tyyyyylaaaaah.” He drawled. He motioned to the exit, “It would be my honour to walk you home tonight.”

Previous to that, Rose had just thought of catching a taxi home, her mother and father had taken the car they had shared over back when they left. She hadn’t intended on staying long, time had moved quite quickly since she made friends with the Doctor.

“Okay then, Doctor, it’s about a twenty minute walk, mind, just warning you,” she nudged him as they may their way out the doors together, stepping out into the cool nights air, the sounds of the inside muffled by closed doors. She started walking in the direction, there abouts, of her street, the Doctor grinned happily beside her.

“I like that you call me ‘Doctor’, as though it’s my given name.”

“Well, I think it’s something to be proud of, plus…John Smith, blegh, it’s really boring,” Rose answered casually, unaware of the look on her companions face. The walk to her street was comfortable – well the company was, but her shoes weren’t. On route, John informed her that he lived in a street just a few rows away from Rose. He also mentioned the reason he was at her parents’ party. He was working with her father on a project, something to do with time travel and teaching children about the laws of time and space, but Rose wasn’t really paying attention. Her thoughts seemed to linger on the fact that she’d be able to see him again.

Their talking made the walk back last an extra fifteen minutes, and considering the ease in which they conversed all night, the awkward silence that surrounded them as they got to her door was unexpected.

“I’ll see ya,” Rose hurried after a few moments looking around. Her gaze fell to the small front garden to her house, but she didn’t move, slowly looking back at the man in front of her.

“I want to see you again,” he said simply, “I want to take you for a coffee…and talk to you some more.” He finished lamely, running a hand through his already tousled hair.

“That would…I would like that, yeah… Nice, coffee…” She could hear her heart thumping. She wanted to continue talking, to try and find a way to add ‘as friends’ into the sentence, but she couldn’t. There was a swirl of emotions going through her, she didn’t want to ruin this night with awkwardly putting a – maybe unneeded – stamp of ‘friendship only’ on their relationship, but the dominant feeling was that she, herself, may not actually want it to be, either.

“Good, brilliant,” The Doctor paused before taking a step towards her, his arms open wide. It took her a brief moment to realise what he wanted, but she stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her head against his, and fitted her body against his, his arms slowly moving to wrap around her. Then she felt it, in the pit of her stomach, the bubbly butterfly feeling.

Her breath caught as she slowly pulled away, her head remaining close to his, her one hand holding onto his should, the other still mostly around his neck. She was sure she stopped breathing altogether when she felt his nose brush against hers, one hand moving from around her waist, up to her face, cupping her cheek gently. There was no mistaking the intent, just as there was no mixed signals from Rose as her eyes fluttered shut. His lips had only briefly connected with hers when a loud mewl of a cat shattered the bubble they were in, making the couple spring apart, both following the path the cat took from sprinting between their legs and up Rose’s garden, climbing up and jumping through the slightly open downstairs window.

“Huh.”

“Your cat…” He stated, brushing a hand through his hair, and down his clothes. Rose had turned and was going to answer ‘I haven’t got a cat’ when, like a cold bucket of water was thrown over her, she looked back at the house, squinting in the darkness to see if she could catch a glimpse of anyone within.

“I should go in, I’ll see you soon Doctor,” she licked her lips eyeing the house up once more before turning back to him, “Will you be safe to walk home from here?”

“What? Man like me? I’ve got no problem outrunning creatures of the night,” he stood a little taller, a smug look on his face.

“Yet you jump a mile when a cat comes near you,” Rose joked, her uneasy smile taken over by a genuine grin.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly paying attention, which says a lot Rose Tyler, because I’m very aware of my surroundings, it takes something…spectacular to make me lose focus,” he had a look in his eyes which caused Rose to gulp. Making a decision, she quickly stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking quickly up her front garden path.

“I’ll see you soon, Doctor.”

“Not if I see you first,” he replied with a wave before he put his hands in his pockets, a slight skip in his step as he quickly walked away down the street, turning to wave before he went around the corner. As Rose’s hand rose to wave back, she realised she had been staring the whole time. She turned to her front door, her key in her hand and took a deep breath. Opening the door she stood, frozen for a moment.

The inside was cold.

The only trace that John had been there was the sound of the radiators cooling down, a ‘clunk clunk clunk’ echoing throughout the house. Except for that, there was no noise she could hear. No television or radio playing.

It wasn’t that this was unusual; she had come back from meals with work mates to an empty, only slightly warm house – usually greeted by John in the middle of the night, or next morning – but this night she was struck with a feeling of unease. She took a few steps into the house when the cat from outside run past her feet and out into the night, startling Rose slightly. Shutting the door and walking into the living room she was… confused.

When she was outside with the Doctor, she was sure; the cat was a sign, from John, that he could see…that he was watching. That he didn’t approve. But he was nowhere to be seen, the house looked almost exactly the same as when she left. The only evidence that John _had_  been there when she was out was a few papers on the table next to the piano. She turned on the light of the living room, a critical eye taking in the room.

Something wasn’t right, she put down her bag on the sofa, taking off her shoes by the side and padded, slowly, carefully, to the table. She saw the familiar scrawl on the top piece of paper, and felt her stomach drop.

_‘He’s a bit pretty, Rose.’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry nine!John, you're a bit pretty, too...


	4. No More to Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mum can’t gab on all night anymore, she’s asleep by nine,” she confirmed, “I’ll get a ride home with her and Dad and we can sit in the garden, and make fun of all the people at the party. I’ll tell you about them first, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write this chapter new... now the others were done around 3 years ago, but I thought, when re-reading that it would be nice to get a little shot from John's perspective. So here it is... (that's reason why it's late is... unlike the others I had to actually write this one from scratch and phew I had a busy week) Hope you enjoy, a little sex, a little heart break. A lot of Nine!John.

** When You’re Without Love **

**Chapter Four – No More to Win**

* * *

 

He loved her. He told her constantly and craved her always. That was something that had more of a handle on when he was alive. He was able to look at her, feel those feelings, but give only a grin in revelation. He watched her for a while, watched her heart aching for losing him and realised for the first time the true depth of her feelings for him. She loved him, just as much… and yet at times he thought they were riding a bubble, as though someone would come along and snap her out of it. Her pain was palpable and he needed to ease it for her.

The moment they touched, he was lost. He learned as a ghost he didn’t really want anything – Rose excluded – he didn’t feel some things like he used to. The urges to eat, sleep, have sex or drink. Yet, the moment Rose kissed him, he felt more alive than he could remember. He wasn’t sure what finally made him visible to her, solid and real, but he knew he’d take full advantage of this opportunity. Perhaps it would heal her, or in the quiet moments when he could think to himself – he knew it was definitely more about him, at times.

Her kisses were more desperate than he ever remembered them being, and they were matched wholly by his own. Watching from afar did little to temper his love for her and any hope of an afterlife or heaven or whatever was nothing to him without her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, happily pulling apart when her hands pulled at the bottom of his jumper. John could tell that this was some part confirmation to her, and he wondered how many dreams she had had since his death that started this way – a frantic coupling spoiled perhaps by the nightmare reality of what would await her when she woke.

“John…” she whimpered as she spoke, pulling at her own clothes with the same frantic need she showed with his top. He didn’t want to waste any time, making a point to remove the rest of his clothing as well, throwing it to mix with her own.

There was something so painfully similar about that situation.

_“Well… that might have been the greatest sex I’ve had,” she grinned, pressing a kiss on his chest. He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead._

_“I’ve got to go,” he made in way of reply. She sat up quickly, the sheet dropping from her body and her eyes flashing._

_“Excuse me,” she huffed, “I tell you I’ve just had the greatest sex of my life and you say you’ve got o go.”_

_“Rose, that was the best sex of your life…so far…” he started, moving out of her bed, looking down at the jumble of mixed clothing, trying to work out her black top from his, “which is which?_

_Thrown by the change in conversation, Rose looked blankly at the two black t-shirts, “I… actually don’t know.”_

_“Lotta good you are, Tyler,” he huffed, pulling one t-shirt part of the way on before pulling it off and settling for the next one. Rose watched as he slowly redressed before stopping. He realised that the conversation that seemed to be running through his head hadn’t actually been voiced and the mistake was causing the ever beautiful Rose Tyler to shrink away._

_“John…”_

_He moved around the bed and sat next to her on the bed, running his fingers up and down her arm._

_“Got that concert in an hour, remember?” he smiled tightly, “I was popping to see you for five minutes and then…” he kissed her bare shoulder, “That was fantastic, Rose. Absolutely fantastic. Definitely should keep doing that, right?”_

_“Yeah… yes,” she pressed her lips to his again, what was supposed to be a gentle kiss was instantly passionate and he could feel himself pushing her towards the bed, “five minutes?”_

_“Watch me do it in three,” he replied against her lips, earning a chuckle from Rose._

_“That’s not really something to boast about.”_

_“Oh, Rose,” he started to kiss down her body, “I’ll be more than boasting when my two minutes and 43 seconds are up.”_

Sex with Rose when post-life wasn’t the biggest alteration from when he was alive, though. Every touch of her on his skin felt like fire. Every moan vibrating against him, causing a twin groan in the back of his throat.

The desperate clinging of her body to his was new; the bubbling of disbelief was what really threw him. He wasn’t about to disappear, he knew that much. He made sure she’d have no reason to doubt it, thrusting purposefully, biting at her shoulder, leaving a lasting mark – so he hoped – so that she would know this was real.

Frantic love-making was the way to go. It wasn’t their usual go to method… when he was alive. They had frantic sex at times, and they made love. This was wholly different , the need was so palpable that it charged through every movement.

The come down from the sex was almost as fraught with passion as act itself had been. He held onto her in such a way that she had to pull away from him after a moment, panting in an attempt to get her breath.

* * *

It didn’t take long into his return for him to realise that perhaps… he wasn’t good for her. Not really. Returning, showing himself to Rose did more damage to her recovery. Initially, at least. They fell back into a way similar to that as when they were a couple… limited by the obvious fact he was dead.

He decided a on a very strategic self-sabotage. Rose wore the same romantic lenses when she thought of him as he did her… and he needed to break that spell, not for him – Christ, he realised he could probably live in this bubble with her forever – but for Rose… he was holding her back. She had to go on, live her life like someone so alive really should. He hated to think of it, and God he hoped he had the power to leave when it came around, but she also had to fall in love. She was always so full of love, she attracted admirers every route she took. It was so very likely to happen, and that same selfish part of him hoped he was long gone before that.

He knew what he had to do, what he had to be… so he invited others into his home. He did little things to grind on her nerves and before he could say anything, she was going back to work. Happily returning to the fold and there were times when he wouldn’t even see her. He’d spend the nights glancing at her for five minutes as she slept, which was usually a few hours. He’d hold her at times, or work on new musical scores. But he tried to place a little space between them.

It hurt.

More than he could have expected. He loved Rose as much, if not more than the last day he was alive… selfish as ever he debated going back on the promise he gave himself.

He watched her get ready for the party.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, leaning on the doorframe and folding his arms across his chest, “Going to knock them dead tonight.”

He saw her freeze at his deliberate choice of words but smiled softly, “I could stay here?”

“You could,” he admitted, “but a pregnant Jackie is a force to be reckoned with… and I think she’d find a way to kick my arse even though I’m…” he couldn’t talk about his death so easily then. Not when his eyes met Rose’s and he had to fight the urge to beg her to stay with him.

“She is excited,” was all she offered in reply, biting her bottom lip. She walked towards him, her arms looping around his neck as his instantly went to hold her waist, “I’ll be home early though.”

“You sure about that?”

“Mum can’t gab on all night anymore, she’s asleep by nine,” she confirmed, “I’ll get a ride home with her and Dad and we can sit in the garden, and make fun of all the people at the party. I’ll tell you about them first, of course.”

“Yea’, ‘course,” he dipped his head to kiss her, allowing a little pleasure, “better go, Rose… your chariot awaits.” As if on cue, the front door opened.

“Shake a leg darling,” Jackie bellowed, “if I find out you’re in your scrubby joggers I’ll tell everyone at the party you got the runs.”

“Oh god,” she whispered into John’s chest, where her head fell.

“Don’t tell her but… I miss her on times,” he admitted, allowing a smile to take over his face, “Go on, go… before she comes up here and shocks herself into giving birth.”

She nodded.

“I’m coming, Mum.”

* * *

The night was quiet. John managed to get a few notes done on Rose’s Song… in theory, scrapping every idea as the fear of completion clawed at him. He went for a walk, found a cat on the way… an angry little thing that seemed to follow him as he hissed at it to bugger off.

By the time he got back to the house, he moved to turn the heating off… Rose was late, later than he expected her to be and he knew she’d find the warmth stifling, especially after a few drinks so it was the least he could do.

The cat meowed from the bushes at one point and he moved to the window. The moment he spotted Rose with another man, he felt an ache in his chest. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. He remembers being told once that if you can’t feel anything you’re not alive… but he wasn’t alive, he knew that for sure and he could feel. He heard the tinkling of laughter and conversation. He wanted to scream and yell and the moment their lips met he turned away from the window.

He jumped as the cat hissed and yowled jumping its way through the open window.

“Hey, you…” he spoke with a light tone, “thanks for that.” He pointed at the window, before he scrawled something on a piece of paper, “Look, you have to leave… don’t want Rose to think we’re working as a team or something.”

He had to leave for a little while. He heard Rose moving closer to the door and he walked out of the living room into the kitchen, leaving to the garden. He hid away, sitting where they would have sat had their evening gone as planned… knowing he wouldn’t see her that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologise again for being late I had a huge week of assignments for my MA to give in (I wish I could say the last of them, but I've another 3 coming up soon... and I won't get into the dissertation, I want to cry). The next and last chapter will be up in a day or two.


	5. Tears Are Clouding Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never want you to leave, never…ever,” She was mumbling in his neck, and he clung to her but stayed silent. His head bowed in decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part of the story. Hope everyone who's read this enjoyed.

** When You’re Without Love **

**Chapter Four – Tears Are Clouding Your Eyes**

**_Mis pies querrán marchar hacia donde tú duermes, pero seguiré vivo_ **

* * *

Rose fell asleep on the sofa, the note from John clutched in her hand. She was never sure how he returned. Whether he walked through – literally – the front door, or if he just appeared, but if he ever spent the night out, he always seemed to walk up the stairs and would greet her as if it was the most normal thing ever. She woke up to the sound of her upstairs alarm going off, a pain in her neck and the house unnaturally cold. She felt…well, she didn’t feel guilty, and those notions alone made her feel guilty. The problem was, when she was with John…she didn’t even look at other people, she noticed the beauty in them, but her heart was firmly John’s. So when she met the Doctor and she barely thought of the ghost of her dead lover back in her house, it came as a surprise to her really. Then came the near kiss, cat…the note and most importantly the empty, cold house.

She sat on the edge of the sofa, running a hand over her face. She had changed into her pyjama’s the night before, delaying time she knew but she didn’t care. She hoped that he’d return… They needed to talk, but she wasn’t sure what exactly they needed to talk about. She heard the sound of her bedroom alarm turning off, and footsteps making their way down her stairs and she held her breath. She heard the familiar sounds of the living room door opening and she jumped up from where she sat, moving to stand in front of the fireplace, biting her bottom lip. John entered the living room with a smile, it was a small one but completely genuine from what she knew of him and relaxed slightly.

“John-“

“Rose-“ they both broke off with a laugh, Rose licking her bottom lip and stepping closer, stopping as John continued to speak, “What’s his name?”

“John Smith, Doctor John Smith… and it’s…it’s not a case for ‘what’s his name’ it’s just – I think you’d like him, he’s…I mean he’s a friend. Sort of…”

“And how many sort of friends do you almost snog in the middle of the street?” His response was blunt but not unkind and Rose blinked a few times, remaining silent. Silent, really, because she knew that the answer would reveal more than she was willing to admit to herself.

“It was just alcohol, and caught up in the moment…” She walked towards him, stopping in front of him, not for the first time hating the lack of heat radiating off him. “I love you, I would never…I wouldn’t…”

“I know,” He smiled again, taking her hands in his, rubbing the back of her hands with his thumbs, “Tell me Rose, when you spoke about me last night, how did you feel?” Rose almost made a joke of him assuming she thought about him at all, when she caught herself, the memories of the night flowing through her. She went back to when she thought about John, or when she mentioned him, and the overwhelming feeling of…

“Loss…  I _missed_ you,” She stopped and went back a few steps in her head, “I don’t miss you miss you… you’re here, and I love that…but I wanted you…”

“You wanted me at that boring party with you?” He squeezed her hands and pulled a face.

“Yes… I know how much you hated them, but I missed you… I missed your hand in mine, or you hiding from my Mum… But that can’t happen, ever again, can it?” She looked at the floor where their feet.

“No… it can’t.”

“You’re _dead_ ,” She whispered, her glassy eyes met his.

“Always quick to catch on, you were,” John attempted to joke, although the smile on his face barely twitched his lips upwards.

“You’re really gone…”

* * *

In spite of the revelation John and Rose continued as they were for over a week. He would continue to annoy her with his ghost friends and the heating on constantly and she would continue to be pissed off about it. It was the eighth day that she went back into work and ended up running into the Doctor. Although, it wasn’t really running into when the man in question was standing outside your office door mumbling to himself looking at the floor.

“Doctor?” Rose questioned after a moment of standing watching him, a smile on her face. He jumped at her voice and turned and smiled. She took in his appearance, a black suit and white shirt – no pinstripes this time, sadly, and she was amused to find he actually looked more formal now that he did when they first met. She caught sight of a bit of silk tie peeking out of his trouser pocket but it was lost when he pushed a hand inside, effectively breaking Rose’s gaze and bringing her back to the present, and also making her aware to having missed some of what he had been saying.

“-so then I realised I didn’t have your number, and I thought why not kill two birds with one stone? Well, because it’s rude, really, to kill birds, isn’t it? What have they done? Anyway, so after the meeting with your father I decided to come and find you and sort of ask…how you were…”

“I’m fine thank you...yourself?” Rose answered and returned the question, it was obvious the man in front of her was nervous and she smiled awaiting his response.

“Oh, I’m brilliant, never bet- You know what? I came here to ask you about that coffee…but I didn’t want to seem like I came here to ask for that, but it’s no good to start new friendships off on lies, is it Rose Tyler?” He said her name in the way she remembered loving from the night before, and felt the small tingle down her spine.

“C-coffee? Of course, yeah… we could have one now, if you’re free?”

“Brilliant, wonderful…yes I am,” He started to walk a little way down the passageway, Rose slowly walking beside him, allowing him to begin to ramble about something else she wasn’t completely sure about.

* * *

When Rose came home, she was a few hours later than usual and was surprised that for the second time in less than two weeks, she wasn’t greeted with the almost familiar overbearing heat that John was so fond of, and she walked inside the house with an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. The house was dark, the only light that from the setting sun outside, but what surprised Rose more was the sight of John sitting on the floor, music sheets spread before him, but he sat perfectly still looking ahead and not registering Rose’s presence.

“John?”  She stepped into the room, dropping her stuff on the sofa and taking off her jacket and shoes.

“Sit down for me, Rose,” He motioned to the open space in front of him and his music sheets, but didn’t look up at her. She stood there for a moment, hoping for something else, when it didn’t come, she sat cross legged in front of him, not disturbed the papers that he pondered.

“John…” She repeated, not as a question but as a statement.

“You know, lots of people have a problem dealing with death, everyone deals with it differently…” He mumbled to himself, moving a few papers across, and using a pen to cross something out.

“Yeah, I know this…John, what’s wrong?” She prompted again, her eyes trying to catch his as they moved quickly around the floor.

“Some people celebrate it; some people don’t even want to talk about it… You know, there are tribes where the women will scream when the man they love has died. Just scream.” He shook his head, almost as though it was hilarious.

“John, seriously – just speak normally,” Rose’s voice rose a little, and she cut herself off, her eyes wide. John’s head moved up slowly, his eyes drifting to meet hers.

“But none of them continue to have a relationship with their dead lover.”

Rose, she was sure, has stopped breathing at that moment, it was like a punch to her stomach and she realised what exactly she was hearing.

“John-“

“It’s cruel, really, to have come back at all –  I-I thought I would help you move on, Rose…” He shook his head, blinking rapidly, “It wasn’t that, though, it was selfishness. I assumed you wouldn’t have been able to move on, assumed that you wouldn’t be strong enough to leave me go…and what does this dumb old man do? Come back to you and actually make it harder.” Rose shook her head, her eyes were glassy but no tears fell.

“N-no, you… I wouldn’t have…”

“Of course you would have, Rose…but I was selfish, I needed to see you… You’re the strongest woman…” His voice broke slightly and he turned to look down at the papers. “I have to go…” He finished in a whisper, looking back up at her. He expected a lot, but the silence and the look of refusal and acceptance mixed wasn’t something that he was prepared for. She moved out of her position, shifting the papers, carefully but quickly, out of the way, practically crawling into his arms.

“I never want you to leave, never…ever,” She was mumbling in his neck, and he clung to her but stayed silent. His head bowed in decision.

* * *

In spite of the developments made that night between Rose and John, nothing changed for a few days. Rose loathed the thought of leaving to go to work, terrified that upon return the house would be empty. John promised her that it wasn’t that easy to leave, even if he needed to, and that he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Rose continued her friendship with the Doctor, going for coffee and lunches and any sort of day plans that were in the same hours as work, not wanting to eat into the transient time she seemed to have with John.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

It was a question that should have made Rose laugh, and maybe even would have years ago, but as the Doctor smiled and waited for her answer, she felt a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach.

“I…uh, why do you ask?” She took a sip from her coffee to distract herself.

“I’ve seen one, well, I mean… my mother, when she died… I’m not talking about a fleck of dust or orb… I’m talking…full body… I was only a teenager back then, and she was there…and s-you think I’m crazy, don’t you?” He finished, although the slight laugh was one of understanding.

“No, no…Doctor… I don’t… it’s just, it’s a bit weird you’d ask me this now…” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip. A look passed over his face and as if coming to a decision, he leant forward on the table.

“Weird I’d ask you now, since you’re being visited by John, I suppose?” He let the words sink in but continued to speak before she could actually say anything, “I recognize the look, the fact you talk about him and things that have happened between you both as if they happened yesterday…you talk about him in the present tense and…tell me I’m crazy.”

“You’re not,” she spoke after a few moments, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his smug grin.

“I knew it! Sorry, Rose, I was really going out on a whim asking you this… What’s it like? When my mother visited, I became a recluse, she didn’t show in front of my Dad…she said it was all about ‘unfinished business’ being to do with me… turns out, it was because of a science project that we were going to do together before she…”

“He told me he’s going to leave and every time I leave I’m scared that when I come back…”

“He’ll be gone?” Rose nodded and then laughed.

“This is crazy…I’ve been clinging on to him…and he’s dead…”

“Will you come for a meal with me tonight?” He asked kindly, as if the whole conversation hadn’t happened, “Just you and I…no ghosts.”

“I…” She paused, and as if struck dumb by the suddenness of the question, her mind came up blank when she plucked for a reason why not, “A-as in a date? We were…I mean, John…”

“Is also my name,” He looked at her pointedly, and her mouth snapped shut, “We’re two people, Rose Tyler, if John was still alive would you have even looked twice at me?” Rose shook her head, “But you did, and here we are… it’s not a date…except that it sort of is.”

“What was it like? When your mother left, again?”

“Sneaky… she walked with me to school, I had the science project in my bag but we couldn’t talk…I wasn’t cool enough in school to get away with talking to myself, so we just walked in silence…it was peaceful…and when I finished school, she was gone…but it was okay, I knew.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

* * *

“He’s a lucky bugger.”

Rose felt the presence behind her as she stood trying to zip up her dress, fingers calmly removing hers to help her zip it up. It should have been weird, him helping her to get ready for a not-date with another man, but there wasn’t any awkwardness, as though he wanted her to go out that night.

“I love you,” Rose told him swiftly, as if he not only needed reminding but also needed reassuring…when maybe it was the other way around.

“Course you do, smart woman,” He grinned as she turned in his arms, the zip firmly done up on her dress. He brought his hands to cup her face, and he thanked whatever it was that gave him this chance had the mercy to allow him to touch her, “You’re beautiful. I love you.”

“You’re beautiful, too,” She grinned and he scoffed.

“He’s here; by the way… sitting all flustered playing with his crazy hair in the car,” John told her as if it was an afterthought, “Thought you said it wasn’t a date?”

“It’s not…” He nodded, although obviously not believing her, she shrugged slightly. They both walked down the stairs, something hanging in the air between them. There was a pause and silence as they stood facing each other, interrupted only by a knock on the door.

“Ready, Rose?” She nodded her reply, “Until we meet again?” There it was. What she had been waiting for… for days, what she had been expecting all day, what she didn’t want to hear, but what she needed to hear.

“Until we meet again.” Departing with a final kiss, she turned and walked swiftly to the door, opening it with a small – but genuine – smile.

“You look…amazing…Rose, here’s me in this old thing, and you looking like that… hardly fair,” He leant back on the heel of his feet, rocking forward again.

“You look gorgeous, Doctor… and you know it, look at that smile,” Rose joked with him, moving into the hall to grab her back and jacket, catching the blue eyes of John, smiling, and turning again.

“Well, I may have spent some extra time on the hair, but you can hardly blame me…it’s the money maker,” He told her honestly.

“Mm, yes, I heard that’s the business that you’re discussing with my father, ‘How to get gravity defying hair like mine’.” She stepped outside the house, moving the strap of her bag on her shoulder and taking her keys out, turning to look one last time in the hallway.

“Oh…oh, is he in there?” The Doctor asked in a stage whisper, moving to the entrance of the door, “It’s not a date, I’m just…getting to know Rose, she’s really quite wo-“

“He’s gone, Doctor,” Rose grabbed his hand, and pulled the door closed in front of them both before dropping his hand and locking the door, “He’s gone.” She whispered again and a few seconds passed before she was wrapped in the arms of the Doctor, gladly accepting his comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Rose… I must have seemed heartless…and with everything we talked about… I’m sorry,” He whispered into her hair before pulling back, cupping her face and moving the tears away from her face, surprised when she started to smile.

“It was…good, we said goodbye… I just… I can’t believe it’s happened…but it has.”

* * *

The evening was nice, and for the first time since the death of John, Rose didn’t feel the weight of the grief that she had been dealing with for the past months. It was the end of the evening that overwhelmed her with a different kind of grief, one that she wasn’t willing to face alone. When she asked the Doctor to come in with her, he accepted readily holding her hand and allowing her to check through the house, aware of what she needed to go through.

He stayed in the living room as she went around the house and moved to admire the beautiful piano that took up much of the room. He wondered how long John had had this piano, and how many hours the man spent hunched over, working on another beautiful piece. He noted that the piano was open and that there were music sheets on the stand. It was simply titled ‘Rose’ and the Doctor found himself sitting at the piano before he could actually register that maybe it was inappropriate. The music, he knew, would be beautiful and entirely fitting for the woman it was named for. He moved and read the final notes of the music and found the ink to be wet, as if only recently finished.

The same urge that compelled him to sit down at the piano moved him to place the sheets back on the stand, and start to place the piece. It was very personal, and although a voice screamed at him in the back of his head that this wasn’t his piece to play, another calmer voice told him that Rose deserved to hear it.

As he expected, the final few bars of the piece were probably the most beautiful, and…oddly, he felt an honour that he got to play them. It was only when he caught sight of Rose out of the corner of his eye, did he jump up and move away from the piano.

“Rose, I’m sorry…I-I didn’t mean to play, but it was there…and it was beautiful, truly…and there was this urge that you needed to hear it played and I’m sorry that I intruded…I…” He trailed off, looking hopeless, but he was met with Rose’s watery smile.

“He was working on this when he died, I’ve seen him with this a few times since…but he could never get the ending…I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do…” The Doctor answered instantly, “This was his unfinished work…”

“I guess so,” She looked down, rubbing at her face, “I’m really going to miss him.” The Doctor walked towards her swiftly, moving to take her in his arms, whispering words of comfort into her hair. He had no idea if anything would happen between Rose and himself, but he was glad for the time he spent with her now.

* * *

**_My feet will want to march to where you are sleeping, but I shall go on living._ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> I gave Nine the name John Baxter because I like the whole 'first name John' thing for DW AU's and Baxter is the surname of another character of his from the show The Second Coming (by RTD, actually). Also... considering this will feature both Nine/Rose and Ten/Rose as AU's I had to give them both names. See you in the next chapter.


End file.
